


I Can Work A Miracle

by rapunzariccia



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Final Fantasy IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapunzariccia/pseuds/rapunzariccia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 2013, a DAO/FFIV crossover. Eidolons are the Old Gods and everything is still awful, the Blight is still happening, and Golbez is a blood mage. Drabble-y, written for a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Work A Miracle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Golbez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golbez/gifts).



> hi my name is molly and i am very much a fan of writing in fragments, apparently  
> BIG thank you to bea who helps me come up with all my au ideas and then pushes me to write them and doesn't judge me when i move onto other things and leave my fic half-written <3 <3

It's the first time they've seen her in years, and she's so different to how they remember, and yet exactly the same. She's bright, smiling, laughing even as they step off the boat and help her onto the little dock, and they have to suppose that it's childish excitement bubbling up and springing forth from her. She's been in the tower for - how many years, exactly? Too long, at the very least, and she can't have felt the wind on her face like this since she was a girl. They allow her a moment - Cecil chuckles as she steps out of her shoes to feel the grass beneath her toes, and only laughs harder when she looks guilty at her actions. Kain wants to press them onward- they have things to do, and they cannot stay by the Circle forever- but when Rosa asks that they hold on for just a while longer, he gives in. Her hair is spun of honey and gold and her eyes are twinkling in the starlight and he thinks that he will not be able to stop her from doing anything he pleases. Under the armour, his knees feel wobbly, and it is the beginning of the first of many long nights. He exchanges a look with Cecil, who's grinning and offers the lady an arm when they decide to press on, and his heart already feels heavy.  
  


* * *

  
  
They don't dare to take her back to Baron, in case someone recognises her. It's likely that Joanna is the only one who will after years of being hidden in a tower, and her sight has been failing her for some time now, but the risk is still too high. If all else fails they can say that they're escorting her somewhere a mage is needed- there's a whole nation getting ready for war somewhere to the south, after all, and Rosa is as good a healer as the very best- but it is the last resort, they say to her in no uncertain terms. She shrugs, agrees to their requests readily, and neither Cecil or Kain mention that they're only following orders.  
"There's a town not far from Calenhad," Cecil says before they even set off. "It's sealed in by mountains all around, and the mist from the lake drifts to sit just above it. We'll stay there for tonight, and then..."

  
Kain knows what he means to say; _and then we_ find _our orders in a serving girl sent up from the city or similar, and we retire back to Ostagar with Rosa in tow, and hope she doesn't kill us for it_. He's terrified, even when he shouldn't be. Rosa is a docile thing, calm and pleasant enough, though her ire can be raised in certain situations - and it will not be the first time she has had to take care of people. As Templars they both know that the conditions the mages face every day are awful, know that there are men and women and children that are punished for misusing their powers and outbursts of energy that they can't control, know that there have been people sent off to have their backs shredded and return to have Rosa - or others - knit their skin back together again. A battlefield will be that much fairer, he thinks, but there is something awful in the deception that need not be deception.  
 _We should just tell her._  
They do not.  
  


* * *

  
  
They find Mist smoking, and none of them know why - not until they see the straggling few hurlocks shambling out of town. They hide, for none of them are suited to fighting darkspawn, and when they are sure they are alone they stand and survey the damage. Nothing stands - thatched roofs have fallen in and bodies are strewn across the floor and they have little doubt that there will be nowhere for them to rest their heads or buy food. They enter the town, weapons at the ready and Rosa shielded between the two men and their armour and their swords. Nothing stirs as they move in, and after a time they put their swords up.

  
"This is awful," Rosa murmurs, and both men are inclined to agree. She approaches a body without fear, where the men hang back and eye them, and kneels to touch her fingers to its cheek. As she does, there's movement in the bushes just a little way from them, and a young, feral looking girl jumps out and starts sprinting at Rosa. Her cheeks are ruddy and scratched and she stumbles before she gets her speed up, but she looks so furious that Kain and Cecil both move in front of their friend to protect her from the hellchild. She's small and gangly, no older than eight, and Kain is able to grab her wrist easily and hold her back. She cries out as though she's in pain, but there are words amongst the curses that she spits out.  
"Don't touch her! Don't! That's my mother!"  
"Let her go," Rosa says, and her voice is all command. Kain can do nothing but comply, and the wild girl screams and lunges at the mage, who catches her easily and pulls her in tight. The situation changes, and Kain and Cecil exchange another glance, this time confused. Rosa holds the girl, presses her face against her shoulder firmly and lets her scream out her grief.  
  


* * *

  
  
They take the girl with them, and move on. Now more than ever Kain worries that they are doing the wrong thing - they're marching further south with every passing day and Rosa doesn't seem to be aware that the world is changing and becoming hotter with every passing hour. She's barely let go of the young girl - who told the party her name and precious little else - and has become a single-minded mothering machine, tucking locks of green hair behind Rydia's ears when needed and keeping herself steadily in front of the girl and any enemy they come across. They've seen Rosa do only a little magic, heal their scrapes and scratches when their armour fails them, and they don't know whether she is able to fend for herself, but the look in her eyes says that she is more than capable. Kain pities the person that takes Rydia away from her. She holds the girl close and tight and when she lets her hand go the girl stays very close, like a duckling that refuses to leave its mother's side. There's a day when Kain gets a little too close, and the girl growls at him before she's swept up in Rosa's calming embrace, but he already felt the crackle of power.

  
"She's a mage," he hisses to Cecil later that night, when he's certain neither girl is near them. Cecil looks up from the fire, a quirk to his brow. "Rydia. She's a mage. Mist- I'd heard rumours that women lay with demons to get magic or something, but I'd never actually heard reports of Circle Mages from that area."  
"So?" Cecil's not looking at him anymore, being painfully obtuse, and Kain wants to smack him, shake some sense into him.  
" _So_ it was a village of apostates," he says, and glances around. Rydia's sitting in Rosa's lap at the edge of the tent, watching constellations that are pointed out to her. She looks harmless from here, but he doesn't trust her.

  
"I find that not all apostates are as bad as the Chantry makes them out to be," is the reply, and Kain is stunned into silence. This is Cecil, who upholds good as though his life depends on it, who rescues animals that are stuck up trees from time to time, who brings young children to the Chantry when they've been separated from their parents and quashes their fears. This is the same man who insisted that they become Templars in the first place to protect Rosa, and who dedicated his life to his training even more zealously than Kain has ever done. Cecil, who has never broken Chantry vows, who is a shining light in the darkness of Ferelden.  
"I," Kain starts, and his mind is blank.  
  


* * *

  
  
It's not long before Cecil is accepted into the group of people Rydia feels comfortable with. He sees them exchange smiles, sees her small hand slip into his much larger one, and one time she even allows him to sit her atop his shoulders to keep her feet dry as they cross a river. She laughs and seems so much happier, so much more human, and Rosa is radiant at this new girl who has hatched from her shell, and tells Kain to join in, to get to know her, but he does not. He keeps his distance, and wonders what powers the girl might unleash, and hopes he never sees them.  
  
He sees them, of course, because the Maker is cruel and laughs at his every misfortune. He is certain that Andraste sits beside him and whispers new pranks to play and that he, Kain Highwind, suffers worse than any man in the world, but there is nothing he can do except offer desperate prayers when the going is quiet. He sees her be separated from Rosa and hears her _scream_ and when she lifts her hands in the air he thinks that the bandits that have waylaid them are merely going to have tiny hands beat against their thighs, but the air crackles and lightning shoots from the sky, felling one. She yells louder, and the earth begins to rumble, and he and Rosa and Cecil are all stopped to watch as the ground splits in two and a great hand pulls itself up from the earth. A head and a body follows, and two great fists hammer down to stop the rest of their would-be attackers.  
"Maker's breath," Cecil whispers, and Kain is inclined to agree. The girl is something the world has not seen for- for thousands of years, possibly longer- she might as well be Andraste's get. She's a summoner, and she called forth one of the Bride's Children, and nothing seems to make sense anymore.  
  
She's strong, but she doesn't know how to use her gift yet, and the titan takes another swing, and the world goes dark.  
  


* * *

  
  
When he opens his eyes, the world is fuzzy at the edges, and nothing hurts. Everything has an indistinct tint to it; he lifts a hand and feels his head buzz with the motion.  
"My son," he hears, and turns. Ricard Highwind stands with a smile on his face, and his arms open wide, and he does not realise that seeing him is wrong, wrong, wrong. He approaches and goes to one knee, and thinks he hears a woman laughing, but when he looks there is only his father with a curious expression on his face.  
"Father," he starts, "I... I am a Templar now. I took the vows as you did, and I'll become just as great as you did, I swear."  
"Good," Ricard Highwind says, and places a hand on his shoulder. Kain realises that he isn't wearing armour, and wonders when that happened, and wonders then why his father's hand isn't warm. "You make me proud, son. I knew I could trust you to do the right thing."  
  
Hearing those words puffs up Kain's chest, and he feels all of five years again, and he remembers that it's been years since he heard those words. And not just because he is doing the opposite of what his father's pride dictates - vows be damned, the man's been dead for fifteen years. He's on his knees in front of a man who cannot be his father. His mouth is dry, and he hears the laughter again.  
"Who are you?" he asks, and his father smiles wide and grotesque.  
  


* * *

  
  
He wakes with a heavy hand on his shoulder, and his head is fuzzy, and this time everything hurts. His arms ache and his armour is pressing down on every part of him and he wishes that he were dead, for then pain would not plague him. There's a rumbling in his ears and it takes him a moment to realise that the sound is a voice, a deep bass-baritone that's saying words over and over. He focuses his mind and listens, and thinks his blood ought to run cold when he discovers the words are commands, but it does not. He has had enough of horror, and he simply closes his eyes again.  
"Look, he does not wish to wake," says a female voice.  
"Neither would you if you had taken such an injury to the chest. Maybe that would be for the best."  
"Be quiet, both of you," that rumbling voice says, and the chattering stops. "Wake up, ser."  
  


* * *

  
  
Kain Highwind's latest companion is a blood mage and goes against everything he has ever been taught, and Kain finds he does not particularly care. He might as well have never taken his vows, for all the magic he has seen lately and not bothered to stop. The mage introduces himself as simply Golbez, and then his companions - demons, all four, but all courteous. Each has a name and a personality and all of them claim to serve Golbez loyally, though they do not reveal their reasons why. He does not ask. He learns that the female had been the one to greet him in the Fade, and despises her for it. She does not let him alone. Golbez asks him to serve, to help him, to help mages, and when rejection is on the tip of his tongue, he thinks of Rosa and her golden hair in the sunlight, marveling at the world after having been locked away for so long.  
"Yes," he says, and swears another oath. This time, he intends to keep it.  
  


* * *

  
  
It turns out that the land is preparing not only for war, but for another Blight. Andraste's Children deep below the Deep Roads are not infallible, nor are they protected from the horrors that lurk down there, and it is when they succumb to evil that waves of darkspawn fight their way to the surface. There are precious few Grey Wardens in Thedas; it has been centuries since the last Blight, and the legend of the Wardens has been diminishing in the calm. He's come here with Rosa but without Rydia or Kain, not knowing where the two of them were thrown, and not having the time to stop and search for them. Rosa is not pleased at having been taken to war, but she takes it in stride, and does her best to aid the people that already need her help. Cecil leaves her unwillingly - it's she that pushes him away in the end, tells him to go and meet the King - and it's in the biggest, most extravagant tent that he meets both the King and the Wardens for the first time. He expects fanfare, pomp and ceremony, but he's greeted only by a brisk nod of the head from each.

  
"You have something for me?" Cailin asks, and Cecil hands over the slip of vellum that has been sitting in his armour for weeks. It's stained but still sealed, and the wax is broken and the words read quickly, and then thrown onto the table as though it weren't the most important thing. "That few men? I had hoped Baron would be able to spare more for the efforts. There's a Blight, you know... This came from Bann Odin's hand directly?"  
"Yes, sire," Cecil says, and feels out of place. He shouldn't be dealing with politics or speaking for his lord. "The Bann was very specific when he said this was all he could offer. We've our own lands to protect, and while the war is important..."  
"Yes, yes, I understand," the king waves him away, and Cecil leaves the tent without so much as a single bend of the knee. He feels perplexed, and is so lost in thought that he nearly walks into the bearded man out front.  
  
"My apologies, ser," he says all too quickly, but there's a hand on his shoulder. "I did not see-"  
"No apology needed. You're the soldier from Baron? I thought more of you would have made it."  
Cecil thinks of Kain, and is guilty when he realises it's been just shy of a week since he last saw the other man. Kain is his best friend, and he could be dead, and he wouldn't know. His gut twists, and his gaze drops, and he mumbles, "We ran into some difficulties... ser. I do not know where my comrade-at-arms is now. Hopefully alive."  
"But you did not come here alone. The woman?"  
They're already walking; there's a campfire ahead with no one standing by it, and Cecil lets himself be led. His eyes dart about at the question, but he does not see Rosa. "My... childhood friend," he allows, cautious. "A Circle mage. It was for our safety that she was with us."  
"A healer, and a good one," comes the reply. "Still, I have my doubts that Bann Odin asked you to relieve her. I'm Duncan," he adds, and holds out a firm hand to shake. Cecil takes it. "Grey Warden, and in charge of more than I ought to be here."  
"Cecil. A sworn brother of the Chantry."  
  
They speak of dreams and honour and a manner of things beside, and when the other Wardens appear from the King's tent and join the conversation, Cecil feels at home with them. They are the stuff of legends, great heroes all, and he has nothing to fear being with them.  
  


* * *

  
  
Rosa worries. She thinks of Kain, and knows he might be dead. She thinks of Rydia, and knows she might be lost and afraid. She thinks of Cecil, and despairs that he cannot see what he is being dragged into: first an invitation to the King's tent, and then talks with the Wardens, and then the general of the army himself appeared as if from nowhere to discuss tactics with him. She wishes she had been left in the Circle, and wishes that she were free to roam the land as she pleased, and wishes most of all that Andraste's Children were as infallible as their parents. She knows what's going on, knows that the land is at danger, knows that Mist was destroyed because a new evil is awake. She's even heard the Wardens mention the name of the new archdemon: Bahamut. There are books in the Circle that detail all of Their Children, and she remembers illustrations that take up an entire page of a dragon so great that the mountains near Orzammar seem only just enough to act as a perch for it. He is the eldest of them all and his breath is both cold and hot at once and his roar is terrible to hear.  
  
She knows before Cecil comes to her that he has agreed to take part in the Warden's Joining, and she almost wants to draw a knife and cut both of their throats now, to make it easier for them.  
  



End file.
